Breakthrough
by XxBlackandYellowFangirlxX
Summary: Psych's newest case: Three explosions, all with one survivor. Jordan, a teenage girl who remains closed to everyone around her. Will Shawn and Juliet be able to get through to her? Or is this the case Psych will never solve?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: New Case

"Mr. Spencer! My office. _Now_."

Shawn smirked at Lassiter's grimace as they followed the Chief into her office.

"Chief, let me be the first to say-"

"I don't want to hear anymore of it, Detective."

"Yes, Chief."

"Good. Now, Mr. Spencer, I called you in because-"

"Aw, Chief… Do you really need me _that_ much? I didn't realize."

Chief Vick let out an exasperated sigh at the childish behavior of the department psychic.

"Mr. Spencer, we have a case that demands your-expertise." She smacked a copy of the case file down in front of Shawn, causing him to jump slightly.

"Three explosions. All in the last ten days. The only possible connection between them is this girl." The Chief flip open the folder to a picture of a teenage girl. "Jordan Alexander: sixteen, currently in foster care, and no living relatives that we know of."

"Currently? Whoa, whoa, whoa." Shawn held up a hand as two fingers went up to his head. "Why am I sensing that she was the only survivor of the explosions?"

Juliet glanced down at her file.

"That's right. She escaped without a scratch."

"We're not getting through to her, Mr. Spencer, and she's the only one that can tell us who could have done this."

"You want me to read her psychically."

"Yes, I do. But we thought if she wasn't _here_," Vick pointed her finger down at the floor, "That it might help somehow…"

"Where is she?"

"With McNab. We put her under police protection in case whoever's after her decides to strike again."

"And then you decided to switch to psychic protection?" Shawn grinned as he watched Lassiter's face turn a slight purple tint.

"Mr. Spencer, you may leave now."

Shawn left the Chief's office and headed over to Buzz's desk. "Buzz!" he called cheerfully in greeting.

"Hi, Shawn. How's it going?" Buzz looked up from his work, grinning.

"Oh, the usual."

Shawn noticed that Jordan was in a nearby chair, watching everything going on around her. Well, more than watching, she was glaring, hard.

"So you're the lucky girl that everyone keeps talking about around here," Shawn said, coming up to her.

She looked up at him.

"It's pretty obvious. I'm the only teenager here."

Shawn winced inwardly. _Nice__first__impression,__Shawn.__Very__nice._

"True."

"So, are you going to stand there and watch me or go back to doing whatever it is you do around here?" Jordan shifted slightly so that her back was to him.

"That would be my job. And apparently my job is to take you on a picnic," Shawn quipped.

Jordan whirled, a shocked expression on her face. In that moment, Shawn knew the tough girl routine was a mask. And if he could just get through to her, he knew that they would get along just fine.

"I don't like picnics," she said simply.

"You don't?" Shawn's eyebrows rose. "Well, that's a relief. Neither do I."

"Well, now you can go away and leave me alone." Jordan turned back around.

"I can't do that. You're kinda my problem now."

"What? Are you the official babysitter around here or something?"

"No. I'm actually the head psychic." 

"Well, Mr. _Head__Psychic_, you should know that I would like to be left _alone_. As in, 'by myself'?"

"It's Shawn. And I've told you, I can't do that."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Jordan snapped.

Shawn decided to try another approach. He pulled Lassie's desk chair over in front of Jordan and sat down.

"I know you're not really like this."

"Really?" Her tone sounded challenging.

"Really."

Jordan shrugged.

"So?"

"Never mind." Shawn stood, looking around for his favorite detective.

Juliet sat at her desk, sipping a steaming mug of coffee when Shawn hurried over.

"Um, Jules?"

"Shawn." When she looked up, she beamed.

"I need your help with something…"

"And since when does Shawn Spencer need my help?" Juliet teased.

"Jules, please. I need your help with-" he gestured helplessly in Jordan's direction.

Juliet O'Hara _laughed_.

"That's strange. I thought you had a way with girls."

"Not with her!" Shawn hissed. "Now, will you just _help__me_?"

Juliet looked over toward Jordan, noting the icy glare she shot anyone who got within range.

"You can't even get her out of her chair?" She giggled, burying her face in the files on her desk.

"Jules…"

She looked up.

"Fine. I'll-help." Juliet broke down into a giggle fit again.

"It's not funny! You know the Chief wants me to get her out of the station for a while, and-"

"Then why didn't you say so sooner?"

Shawn turned around to see Jordan standing behind him.

"Did you just use three 's' words in a row?"

Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you answering my question with a question that is totally irrelevant to my question?"

"And why are you answering my question that wasn't an answer to your question with a question about why I'm answering you with a question?"

"Because you're not answering my original question."

"Because I have a roundabout way of doing things."

"Okay, hold it." Juliet held up her hands. "You're giving me a headache with this nonsense."

Shawn looked appalled.

"'This nonsense', Jules? 'This nonsense' is how we do things."

Juliet raised an eyebrow, attempting to glare at him but ended up with a silly grin on her face.

"Shawn, don't you have something to do? _Outside_ of the police department?"

Shawn looked confused for a moment before he noticed Jordan.

"What? Oh, right!"

The junior detective shook her head as she watched her boyfriend practically sprint out the doors.

_What have I gotten into?_

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Gus pushed open the door to the Psych office, expecting to be bombarded with Shawnisms. To his surprise, he wasn't. Instead, there were plenty of crazed yelling and video game sound effects greeting him as he stepped inside.

"Yaaaah! Take that!"

"Ow! Since when is hitting someone over the head with a pillow during this legal?"

"You're the one that said anything goes!"

"I meant in the game!"

"Well, you should have clarified!"

Gus recognized Shawn's voice at once, but the other, although distinctly female and young sounding, was one he had never heard before. He rounded the corner to find Shawn and a teenage girl attempting to pulverize each other in some kind of fantasy video game.

"Shawn."

Shawn looked up.

"Oh hey, buddy! Come to join the party?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"I guess…"

Gus got Shawn over to the side, glancing at the girl for a second before turning his attention back to his best friend.

"Shawn, what is she doing here?"

"It has to do with a case." Shawn held up a finger to keep Gus from butting in. "And before you say anything, it's for the department. Apparently, the Chief thinks it would be better if she was under psychic protection instead of police protection."

Gus' eyes narrowed.

"What exactly is the case about?"

Shawn shrugged.

"Some kind of serial exploder thing. Trust me, this is an open-close case."

"Serial exploder? As in bombs? Shawn, how many people has this guy killed?"

Shawn glanced at the girl.

"Not the one he was targeting, that's for sure."

Gus suddenly looked panicked.

"She's the target? There is no way I'm staying here to find out if you can keep her or yourself alive!"

"You know I can hear you." The girl stood with her arms crossed in the doorway.

"I know. But I doubt Gus knows. Speaking of which, Gus, this is Jordan. Jordan, meet Gus, my partner in the psychic detective business."

"At least you didn't introduce me as anything else…"

"Gus, don't be a down feather pillow. Why would I do a thing like that?" Shawn asked with a hurt expression.

"Because you do, Shawn. All the time."

"But not every time." Shawn pointed out with much chagrin.

"Nearly every time then. I really don't have time for this." Gus said as he sat down in his chair with sigh of relief.

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Maybe because I don't have anything better to do? Or maybe because I'm starting to go insane after being your best friend for over twenty years?"

"That hurts, Gus. That really hurts that you think of me like that." Shawn said, his voice echoing strangely as he scrabbled around in the refrigerator.

"Shawn, get your head out of the fridge and tell me about this case!"

"Hold on one second. I can't find the pineapple chunks…"

"Shawn!"

"Fine. Ow!" Shawn closed the refrigerator door, ruefully rubbing his head. "There's really not much to tell."

"There isn't? How 'bout you tell me why on earth you took a case that you're not capable of handling? Tell me that, Shawn!" Gus glared at him, his hands resting on the top of his desk.

"I didn't have much choice. The Chief practically dropped it in my lap!"

Gus stayed silent for a moment.

"What do you need me to do?" He sighed.

"I need you to drive the blueberry to the nearest taco place. I'm starving."

Gus looked up to see Shawn with a half-serious expression on his face. Jordan stood slightly behind him, watching the exchange carefully.

"You know that's right." Gus said, a grin slowly spreading over his face.

_**Well, how was it? Intriguing? Silly? Maybe a bit of both? **_

_**Check out the polls on my profile to help decide the details on Jordan. Or, if you have something more specific that's not included in the polls, drop me a review. I appreciate all the feedback. **_

_**Special thanks to…**_

_**splashes-of-silver; my beta for this story and fellow Psych-o.**_

_**Give her a round of applause, guys! She's amazing!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Tacos, Talking and… 'Tag, You're It'?

"So, when exactly did all this start?" Gus asked Jordan after listening to Shawn fill in the details on the case.

Jordan looked up from her taco.

"Fourteen years ago," she cocked her head slightly to the side, looking distant, "It was a car bomb. They found me under what was left of the trunk. My parents weren't so lucky." Her eyes came back into focus as she returned her attention to Gus.

Gus winced.

"Ouch."

Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"It gets worse. When I was six, another bomb took half of my foster parents' house. They put me back into foster care. Nothing happened until I was ten; this time the bomb killed the detective that was working my case. She was filing for adoption." She looked down again. "Nothing's happened for six years, no bombs, no threats, no being followed. I thought it was over. Apparently it's not."

"You've been stalked by this person all your life? Now that's just sick!" Gus scowled.

"It's a guy."

"What?"

"I said, 'it's a guy'. I got a look at him one time. Average height, early forties, Caucasian and he may have had black hair. He had a hat on so I couldn't be sure."

Shawn raised his eyebrows.

"And you've remembered this for how long?"

"A couple of weeks." Jordan shrugged. "But I kinda have a perfect memory. Or something like that."

"You mean photographic." Gus corrected.

"No, not photographic. They called it something else…" Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"Just do the best you can." Shawn studied her intently, a million thoughts whizzing through his brain.

_Is it possible that she has an eidetic memory? That she's like me?_

"Ever since I was little I could remember everything. Where I was, what I was doing, who I was with. It creeps people out, especially the ones I haven't seen in several years, when I remember them as the guy 'who had a sausage and Swiss omelet, but never got to eat it because he dumped it all over his girlfriend'." She sighed. "But all I know about the explosions is what people have told me. I can't remember anything except what I saw happening afterward. Stuff was on fire, people running and screaming. But I never can remember seeing the explosion, or hearing it, or feeling the ash rain down. Every time I draw a blank."

"What do you remember before the explosion?"

"I was in a coffee shop, well, more like outside it. It had one of those outdoor patio thingies." Jordan waved a hand in the air.

Gus sneaked a glance at Shawn.

"In my opinion, you're too young to drink coffee." Gus stated, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken that somehow escaped his quesadilla.

Jordan cocked an eyebrow.

"For your information, I have been drinking coffee since I was two years old. That was all the fire department had." She smirked triumphantly.

Shawn snorted, shaking with laughter.

"Looks like she's got you there, buddy!" He said, grinning.

"Why are you taking her side, Shawn? We're best friends. You're supposed to take my side!"

"Be sure to remember that the next time we've got a case."

"We do have a case, Shawn! It's sitting across from you!"

"Jordan's not the case! She's the witness!"

"Um, guys. There's someone coming up behind you. Guys…" Jordan tried to get their attention.

Shawn and Gus paid no attention, continuing to bicker back and forth.

"Fine. I'm an alien."

Shawn and Gus froze, looking at Jordan in shock.

Jordan burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair.

"You should see your faces!"

Shawn looked bewildered.

"I can't. Gus forgot to bring the mirror."

"What mirror, Shawn?"

"The one you forgot to bring." Shawn said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I didn't forget to bring any mirror, Shawn. I wasn't supposed to bring one in the first place!"

"Of course you were." Shawn switched his attention to Jordan. "You're not really an alien."

Jordan rolled her eyes.

"Of course I'm not. It just easier to get people's attention that way then saying 'fire' or 'murder'."

"It does that alright…" Gus muttered.

"Gus, try and live a little for once, won't you?"

"Please. You haven't had that trick pulled on you thousands of times." 

"I haven't done it thousands of times!" Shawn said indignantly.

Gus gave him a reproachful look.

"Fine. Maybe a couple hundred…" Shawn sighed, rolling his eyes.

Gus shot him another glare.

"Do you remember what were you doing at the coffee shop?" He asked Jordan.

Jordan smirked.

"Of course I do. I was hiding from my 'bodyguards'."

"They were assigned to protect you from this guy, right?"

"Yeah. And if he tries it again, I'm not going to be staying around to find out whether the SBPD gets him or not." Jordan looked away, her expression solemn.

"You'll only make yourself an easier target, Jordan." Shawn warned.

She looked up, meeting Shawn's sharp gaze.

"All my life the people around me have ended up dead. I may be making myself an easier target, but at least I'll be the only one dying!" Jordan jumped to her feet and hurried away.

Shawn and Gus exchanged glances for a few minutes.

"I guess I'd better go after her…" Shawn sighed.

He rose, heading in the direction Jordan had gone.

Footprints led down to the beach, where more lay across the sand and disappeared behind several large rocks.

As Shawn drew closer, Jordan came into view, hunched over with her knees drawn up into her chest as she stared out over the waves.

"Hey."

"Hi." Jordan didn't bother to look up as he came up.

They were both silent for several moments before Jordan finally spoke again.

"I didn't mean to lose it back there. I guess I just got stressed out."

Shawn glanced at her.

She hadn't meant to, but she wasn't sorry she had either.

"I just don't want other people to get hurt because of me." Jordan put her chin in her hands, avoiding Shawn's gaze.

"Jordan, it's not your fault that some crazy stalker is after you. And it's not your fault that people got killed."

"It is." Jordan sniffed.

Shawn winced. What was he supposed to do? A sixteen-year-old girl was crying on the beach, convinced that everything that was going wrong in her life was her fault. He didn't know what to do, how to change her mind or even how to catch this guy.

"Jordan, I know how you feel."

Jordan sniffed again, swiping the tears away with the back of her hand.

"No, you don't. Everyone keeps saying that. The police, the FBI, the psychologist that thinks I have a mental problem. But they don't know how I feel; they don't _want_ to know how I feel. They don't even care…" Her angry rant dwindled down until she finally trailed off.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay. I've had worse cases than this, and they never get any less personal."

Jordan looked up again.

"You have the same problem?" She gave him a small half-smile.

"I used to." Shawn cocked his head. "No, scratch that. I still do, it's just not as bad."

"Maybe you do know…" Jordan murmured.

"You want to know why I took this case?"

Jordan shrugged.

"You'll probably tell me sooner or later."

"You remind be a lot of myself. You're eidetic. So am I. Plus," he grinned, "I like your sense of humor."

"I'll challenge you to prank war sometime." She said, grinning back.

"Don't run off again. I don't think Gus can stand it."

She stood, looking at him with a playful scowl.

"Yes… Mommy." And with that she took off up the beach, giggling like a six-year-old playing hide-and-seek.

Shawn jumped to his feet, looking indignant.

"Kids…" He muttered. "Hey! Come back here!"

_**Hmm… Seems like Jordan doesn't listen very well. But then again, neither does someone else we all know and love. ;D If you have any ideas for what Jordan should look like, check out my profile(there's a poll), or leave me a review, and while you're at it, tell me what you think. Please?**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Bombed-Bombated? Bombasticated?

"What's going on, Shawn?" Juliet sat down on the couch after Shawn had let her inside the Psych office.

"Jordan gave us a description of this guy. And, before you ask, she's eidetic."

"Shawn, that's – amazing. But is that what's had you out of the loop all day? She's eidetic, which means we've got an open-shut case."

Shawn slammed his hand down on his desk.

"Darn it, Jules! It's not that simple! This guy _knows_ she has an eidetic memory, and somehow he did something so that she never saw any of the explosions, only what happened afterward and I can't seem to figure out why…"

Juliet shrugged.

"So? You're psychic. You'll figure it out, just like you always do."

He stood, pacing.

"It's just not that simple, Jules. Sometimes the spirits won't talk to me and I have to improvise…" he trailed off as Jordan burst into the room.

"He's found me again!" She collapsed onto the couch and curled into a ball, holding her phone like it was about to bite her.

Juliet gently pulled the phone out of her hands and took a look at the screen.

"Shawn, we've got to get out of here." She held it up where he could see the screen.

'_Come home or I will bring you home.'_ Read the newest text.

"I'm going to call Lassiter." Juliet put Jordan's phone down and rummaged in her purse for her cell. "It's probably some kind of code phrase."

"It's not a code phrase." Jordan suddenly piped up.

Juliet stopped right before she hit the 'call' button.

"What?"

"It's not a code phrase. He's texted or called or left notes and used that same phrase. I think he expects me to understand what he means, but I don't, and it makes him mad because he thinks I'm holding out on him."

"Sounds like you've been holding out on _us._ Jordan, why didn't you tell us this when you were at the station?"

"I didn't want anyone else to get hurt. That's what he does. As soon as someone starts caring about me, _really_ caring, he kills them off. And I don't want that happening again."

"Jordan, you should have told us. That way we can do our job, and our job is to stop this guy so that you don't have to be afraid anymore." Juliet said.

"I'm not scared. I just don't want people to get hurt." Jordan crossed her arms. "And I don't want to have to relive all again…" she added under her breath.

"Shawn, what is this? Are you trying to prank me?" Gus came into the room holding a rectangular-shaped box with a timer set into the top that was counting down the seconds.

Jordan jumped up and grabbed the box. She turned and hurled it out the closest window.

Shawn blinked, recalling the numbers on the timer.

"Get down!"

Then the explosion billowed upwards…

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"Detective!"

Lassiter looked up as Chief Vick headed for his desk.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Dispatch just called in an explosion at the Psych office."

"Sweet Lady Justice. I knew Spencer couldn't handle this case." The head detective rose, shouting directions. "Dobson! Get some black and whites down to Spencer and Guster's residences! What do you mean you don't know where they live? Spencer's been around here long enough that the whole _state_ should know by now! McNab! Show this idiot how it's done around here!"

Then, he turned and headed out the door.

As the Crown Vic revved through traffic lights and around the more slow-moving vehicles that mostly consisted of old cars and even older ladies that in Lassiter's opinion, should be written up as a public safety hazard.

He shook his head, thinking of the countless times the psychic had done something stupid which had led to him, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, being called upon to get him out of the whole darn mess.

But as much as he didn't want to admit it, _that_ in it's turn had led to the Santa Barbara Police Department having one of the highest arrest records in the state.

The Vic turned the corner and Lassiter stomped on the brakes as he caught sight of the thick black smoke billowing around what was usually the Psych office. Off to the side were parked Guster's Echo, Spencer's motorcycle and O'Hara's Volkswagen Bug.

Lassiter slammed his fist into the steering wheel and immediately regretted it. He pressed 'talk' on his police radio.

"Chief, reroute the black-and-whites to the Psych office. They're all here."

"I'll send some EMTs with the black-and-whites, Detective."

"Thanks, Chief."

Lassiter turned to watch the smoke rise.

_I am going to shoot him…_

_**Sorry I took so long getting this chapter up. My Internet has been acting wacky on me. Please review and tell me what you think, and say, while you're at it, why don't you tell me what you'd like to see happen to Jordan when all this is over. Say?**_


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